Family Man
by DayIngham
Summary: Sam Fisher is on one of the most important missions he's been on for years; Lambert is nervous and time is limited. Will Sam manage to negotiate the mysterious building and its dark secrets, or has he finally met his match?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to Splinter Cell, or to any other brand names/cultural references/media productions that may be mentioned in the making of this fanfic. :)

* * *

**SPLINTER CELL: FAMILY MAN**

It was a dark night. No moon, no stars, no light from above or below. Nothing. The black helicopter hung motionless in the air, obscured by the low, grey clouds. The wind howled and buffeted its fragile frame, while heavy raindrops lashed from overhead, keeping up a sharp, continuous tattoo against the roof. Its rotors whirred, the noise completely drowned out in the storm. One of the helicopter's doors was open; a single rope snaked downwards to the rooftop below, upon which a lone figure crouched.

"Fisher, do not overestimate the amount of time you have to complete this mission. Dawn breaks in about five hours, and when that happens we need to be _out_ of this area. We can't afford to be around when the daytime occupants show up."

"I know, Lambert. Don't you think I'm aware of how important this is?"

"Sorry, Sam, I just needed to remind everyone of how much is at stake here. You have fifth freedom."

"Roger."

Lambert closed his communications channel and was replaced by Anna Grimsdóttír, Third Echelon's information and technological specialist.

"Hey, Sam. Has Lambert been giving you a hard time?"

"He seems edgy. Is there something I should be worried about here, Anna?"

"What, aside from the fact that if you're caught, the US government and its affiliates will deny all knowledge of your existence? It's understandable that he's nervous, given the circumstances. Focus on what you need to do. This is just another mission, Sam."

"Thanks. Commencing infiltration."

Sam Fisher ran across the roof of the building, rainwater splashing into the puddles around him. The night was cold against his face, which was free of the usual trifocal goggles. He was travelling light in terms of equipment; no rifle, no grenades, very little ammunition for his pistol. Speed of movement was the key here. He reached the raised entry to the stairwell, knelt and fed his optic cable underneath the door. The lights were on, and it would take time and caution to negotiate the stairs without being detected.

He checked the roof instead for any other features, and spotted a ladder leading down to a lower surface, where a gigantic fan rotated slowly, covered by a meshed surface. Sliding down the ladder, Sam located a small trapdoor built into the steel mesh covering and inserted his lockpicks into its keyhole. Pressing gently on the tension lever with his left hand, he used the hook in his right hand to nudge the lock's internal catch.

"Come on..."

On the fourth attempt the catch clicked out of position. Sam replaced his tools and swung open the trapdoor. He faced the fan, considering his next move. It would be risky, but then the fan wasn't rotating very fast at all. A small metal cable-support stood just over the entrance to the ventilation tunnel, usually for the use of maintenance engineers. It was to this that Sam fixed his own light, high-tension cable. The following manoeuvre would require good judgement and a quick descent.

Pulling out his pistol, Sam lowered himself into an abseiling position just above the fan before activating his ECP attachment. The noise of the fan's motor died down, and Sam quickly jammed his pistol between its slowing blades and one of the frame's three diametric supports, which crossed and met in the centre. His gun kicked as it suddenly stopped the blade, but Sam held on tight. He then abseiled down through the stationary fan before kicking off the wall and dropping rapidly. It took him three more jumps before he reached the bottom of the deep shaft, where he detached himself from the cable. It whizzed back up to the top attachment, going past the fan just as it restarted.

"Nice," said Anna in his ear.

"I knew I should've joined the circus." Sam replied, making sure his pistol was undamaged.

"Take the duct to the east."

Sam consulted his watch, and used its digital compass to turn and line himself up with said eastern duct, which was one of many leading into the central ventilation system. He crouched slightly, then crawled into the duct. Proceeding along on his elbows and knees, Sam would occasionally pass over a slatted opening, through which he could see chairs, plants, the interior of a janitor's closet, benches, handrails. Eventually he reached another trapdoor, this one opening out to the area below. Sam pulled it open and dropped down carefully. He was in the grand, open space of the entrance to a mall.

Lambert's voice came back in over the comms channel.

"Maximum caution, Fisher. We don't know what kind of security they have these days. Malls are not our specialty."

* * *

What's Sam doing infiltrating a mall, you may ask? Well stay sharp, readers. There's more to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Sam looked into the mall's entrance hall. He was in the front left corner of the expanse, the automatic doors that led outside to his far right and behind him a little. The section of ventilation pipe he'd dropped down from came out from the left hand wall and curved immediately, leading forwards into the building. In front of him, the room was open-plan on two levels, two grand escalators leading up to a balcony, which in turn was the edge of the upper level. Everything was off; the automatic doors were shut, and the escalators were not moving. The shops that lined the left and right walls were sealed off with metal shutters.

Suddenly, Sam noticed movement far up ahead. On the other side of the ground floor, past the escalators leading upwards, what looked like some sort of security guard was patrolling. He looked to be tall and broad, although it was hard to tell at a distance. His uniform seemed to be of a higher order than that of a standard mall cop or private security firm. It was patterned with greens and greys, and he was carrying a rifle. He was patrolling slowly down the wide main hallway, and was subsequently joined by another guard, similarly equipped.

"Lambert," Sam murmured into his pick-up. "This doesn't look normal. These guys are not a light night patrol."

"Agreed, Fisher. Keep your distance if you can."

The guards were coming towards the front of the hall where Sam was, and showed no sign of turning around. Sam still had a good minute or so, however, and he moved within the shadows, up against the wall leading to the automatic doors, until the escalators were between him and the guards, blocking any potential view they had. He then proceeded forwards and quietly climbed the left escalator.

The upper hallway was narrower than its lower equivalent, and had a large planter taking up most of its centre, stretching all the way along, with walkways going around the sides of it. Grass was growing on the planter, and a few miniature trees stood at intervals along it too. Accompanying the foliage on top of the planter was an inactive fountain and a long, red bench.

Sam heard footsteps coming around the next corner, but had expected a similar level of unusual activity to downstairs. He reacted quickly, running forwards and throwing himself up onto the shadowy floor of the planter. He crept forward, moving under the bench, and then froze as the sounds of the footsteps amplified slightly and changed in quality, meaning they were no longer echoing around the corner. The sound drew closer, and Sam noticed two pairs of shoes walking in step together. Closer still, and one of the guards climbed up onto the planter and sat on the very bench that Sam was lying under, while the other stood in the walkway nearby. Sam breathed as quietly as possible.

"I'm bored as hell."

The voice came above, from the bench's occupant. His colleague's feet moved, shifting weight.

"I don't blame ya. Still, the work pays."

"Maybe it would be worth it if something actually happened around here. This is a mall, for Christ's sakes! Why do they need so many patrols? Nobody has any reason for coming in here!"

"We're still only halfway through our shift. Come on, if you take a break this early it'll just make the rest seem longer."

"Not to me. It's long enough as it is."

"You don't wanna get caught. You wanna play I-spy as we walk?"

"..."

"What?"

"Not cool, man."

"Excuse _me _for trying to make things more interesting. Are you coming or not?"

"I have cramp."

The standing guard exhaled, irritated. His feet then turned and continued along his patrol path. He turned left before the escalators and disappeared out of sight. The remaining guard's feet remained unmoving, and Sam took the opportunity to inch out from the bench on the other side, where he then raised himself to a crouch, just behind the sitting guard. He slid his pistol from its holster. The guard sighed and made as if to stand, but Sam struck him on the head with the butt of his pistol, sending him sprawling forwards onto the floor. Sam vaulted the bench and rammed his knee into the fallen guard's back before pressing the pistol to his head.

"You should have played I-spy."

"What th- Jesus!"

"What's going on here? Why is there so much muscle?"

"Aargh! Di - didn't you hear me say the same thing? I don't know! This is standard for malls now, I guess! We just follow orders from our contractor!"

"How many men are in the building?"

"There are about twenty patrols all over. Maybe more. We all travel in pairs, so upwards of forty men...Nngh!"

"Thanks. Here's some words for next time. Door. Wall. Leaf. Unconscious idiot. Goodnight."

A second blow, this time to the temple, rendered the guard senseless. Sam dragged and pushed his body up underneath the bench, obscured by shadows and leaves.

"Which way now, Grim?"

"Elevator, I think. Round the corner ahead. I'm just homing in on your position, I'll have the schematics up in a second."

Sam approached the corner, hugging the wall, and peeped out. The coast was clear and the elevator was in plain sight. Sam hurried up to the side of it and pressed the CALL button. The elevator arrived after ten seconds, and Sam immediately pushed the UP button upon entry. Nothing happened. He tried it again. Suddenly, Anna's voice sounded once again urgently in his ear.

"Sam! The camera! You didn't deactivate it?"

"...WHAT?"

The camera? Sam must have missed one when he dived to the planter's floor. If there was one in the upper hall, it would have seen the whole business with the guard! The elevator suddenly started to descend of its own accord.

"...They overrode the system. You're in trouble, Sam."

All Sam could do was wonder at his basic error. He'd been doing this for decades. Then, the lift stopped. The doors opened and two guards piled straight in, armed with batons.

"TAKE HIM ALIVE!"

The first guard aimed a blow straight at Sam's head. Sam ducked and drove an elbow straight into the guard's stomach. He straightened his legs quickly, letting his head rise and connect with the guard's jaw, before grabbing him and smashing him sideways into the wall. The movement was interrupted by the second guard however, who charged them both and pushed them into the back wall of the elevator. Sam was driven off balance, but he regained his footing to headbutt the first guard in the face again. The second's guard baton came swinging in, however, connecting solidly with Sam's temple. Seeing stars, Sam tried to lunge for the second guard, but that was when a taser projectile suddenly pierced his chest, sending thousands of volts coursing through his frame. Sam fell, twitching, and more guards crowded the lift, replacing the injured first one, all armed with batons.

"Sam!"

Anna's cries fell on deaf ears, as Sam's consciousness slipped away and left him.

* * *

Uh-oh! Stick with Sam for what is yet to come; I'll be away for a few days before writing the next bit.


End file.
